


Maybe Why

by tielan



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Character Study, Community: trope_bingo, F/M, Post-Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie), Secret Relationship, Sleeping Together, Trope Bingo Round 4
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-28
Updated: 2015-04-28
Packaged: 2018-03-26 04:23:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3836959
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tielan/pseuds/tielan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The habit of secrecy – of privacy – is ingrained in her, bone-deep, blood-deep, soul-deep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Maybe Why

**Author's Note:**

  * For [scribblemyname](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scribblemyname/gifts).



> For **scribblemyname** who prompted me with _maria/steve, cuddles_.
> 
> Ending/character spoilers for Avengers: Age of Ultron.

There’s a light on in the Avengers’ Lounge. That’s what the facility personnel have taken to calling the space, and by general agreement it’s not somewhere that facility personnel venture unless they're invited.

Invited, or commanding this facility.

Maria hesitates before she heads towards the sliding doors leading to the lounge. It’s late, even for her, and although rest is a relative concept to an android, Vision does seem to work better when he has a few hours ‘counting electric sheep’.

However, when the doors slide back, the head turning to face her isn’t red and gold, but tanned and blond – Rogers in civvies, sitting with his sketchbook on his lap, his pencil paused over the paper as he looks up at her. “Maria?”

“Working late?”

He smiles a little, the faint quirk of his mouth that manages to convey…a lot of things that Maria’s too tired to parse right now. “You were.”

“I had things to do.”

“And I’ve been waiting for you to finish those things.”

Maria tenses, glancing back over her shoulder, as though half the facility’s gossips might be in the corridor just behind her. When she looks back, the sketchbook is flat on his lap and his expression is steady and carefully neutral. “There’s no-one here, Maria – it’s just us.”

“And Vision.”

“He already knows. And he’s not really the type to gossip.” Steve puts the sketchbook aside and stands, stretching, while Maria watches the rippling play of muscles, and is too tired to be abashed when Steve arches a brow at her. “You were going to ride home, weren’t you?”

“It’s not far.”

He holds out a hand. “Humor me?”

The habit of secrecy – of privacy – is ingrained in her, bone-deep, blood-deep, soul-deep. Too many years of hiding herself, of pushing away her needs and her wants as a child, then a teenager. Then came the discipline of the Marines and the realisation that the ‘everything’ she wanted to be was circumscribed by her lack of a penis.

And then Peggy Carter gave her a city to save, gave her a recommendation to SHIELD, gave her a mission to complete: to carry the flame of leadership into the twenty-first century.

And, as it turns out, to carry a torch for Steve Rogers while she’s at it.

She’s still not certain it’s a good thing that Steve is carrying a torch right back at her. But it’s not something he lets her avoid. She can say ‘no’ at any time and he’ll accept that as an answer, but she’s not allowed to avoid the question.

Maybe that’s why she says ‘yes’.

Maybe that’s why she crosses the room and puts her hand in his, lets his thumb rub along the side of her palm as he leads them out of the lounge, lets her arm rest against his as they walk towards the quarters assigned to the various Avengers personnel.

Maybe that’s why she closes the door behind them and keys in the lock, sits down on the bed and lets him take off her heels without a word. Maybe that’s why she undresses, the shirt hung over a chair back, the trousers folded on the seat, and her bra draped over.

Maybe that’s why she doesn’t protest when he rolls her over in the bed and fits himself against her, skin to skin, back to front, his arm under her neck, his hand warm on her hip.

Maybe that’s why Maria sleeps better with Steve Rogers, Captain America, cuddling her like a child cuddles his teddy.

Maybe.


End file.
